Hiding For You
by Maggie Day
Summary: Hermione hides in the streets of London, leaving the Wizarding World behind her. Will her actions keep her friends safe or lead the Dark Lord to his prey?
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own Hermione or Harry or Ron or anyone else...Kudos to JK Rowling!

_Move faster, Hermione!_

Hermione Granger grabbed spell books and quills as she stumbled around her room, tossing them into the large brown trunk that rested at the foot of her bed. She grabbed her black Hogwarts robes from her closet and jammed them atop her other school things, then slammed the trunk shut. She locked it, then whispered an anti-theft spell as she waved her wand.

Crookshanks watched her from his spot on her bed, his tail swaying in anticipation. Hermione gathered him in her arms and, none too gently, pushed him into his travel basket.

"Sorry, Crookshanks," she said, as he grabbed at her t-shirt to steady himself. "I don't have much time." He stared at her through the small opening on the side of the basket, and she sighed heavily. "I wish you could come with me."

Her attention was drawn to the window at a persistent tapping. Hedwig was hovering there, a letter tied to her leg.

"Get in here,"said Hermione, opening the window. The bird sailed in, landed effortlessly on the bed, and held out her leg patiently.

Hermione took the letter quickly and shoved it into her pocket. She quickly muttered another spell as she pointed her wand at her trunk. The bewitchment caused her trunks and Crookshanks' basket to have a combined weight of a spell book. She tied the handle of the trunk to the handle of the basket, then called Hedwig to her arm.

Hedwig complied, but her eyes were wide as she saw what she was being asked to deliver. Hermione tied the string to the birds leg, then added a letter to the string. The bird rose effortlessly and dragged the trunk and basket to the window. Hermione helped her get them out the window, then watched as her most treasured possessions flew away.

"Hermione! Come down here, please!"

Hermione tore her eyes from the window, totally alone. She sighed as she grabbed a ready backpack off her bed and put her wand in her pocket. She looked over her room one last time before shutting the door.

She hurried down the stairs to the livingroom, where her parents were sitting together on the couch. Two glasses of ice water were resting on the coffee table, and the news filled the room with the latest stories.

Her father smiled up at her as she entered. "Hey there," he said. "What are you up to upstairs? It sounded like you were tearing the walls down."

Hermione forced a smile. "It's nothing, Dad. Couldn't find a book."

Her mother took her glass and sipped at the cool liquid. "Such a racket over a book. You never lose anything, darling."

Hermione nodded, her smile fading. In her hurry, she had neglected to keep the noise down. Her carelessness might allow them to catch on more quickly than she was prepared for.

"First time for everything, I suppose." Hermione glanced at the television, seeing the weather forecast on the screen. She memorized it, then continued to her parents. "I'm going to the library for awhile. I'll be back late."

Her mother sighed. "Honestly, Hermione. You spend more time in that building than you do at home."

"Oh, leave her alone," said her father, patting his wife's knee. He smiled up at Hermione. "Read it all, sweetheart. Everything you read will be useful to you someday."

Hermione smiled, genuinely this time. "Thanks Daddy," she said, bending down and kissing his cheek. She kissed her mother's cheek as well, saying, "I love you," as she hurried through the door. She forced the tears away until she was three blocks from her home. Tears finally streamed down her cheeks, though she did not push them away.

She thought through her plan once more, making sure she had thought of everything. She glanced up and down the street, then pulled her wand from her pocket and raised her arm into the air.

A second later, a three level purple bus was parked in front of her, with a rough looking man at the door reading instructions. Without waiting for him to finish, Hermione handed him the money for her fair and said, "London, please."

Harry Potter was sitting on his bed, trying to make sense of his Potions assignment, when a loud tapping caught his attention. He looked up to see Hedwig fluttering outside his window. He hurried to let her in, and was surprised at the load she was carrying. He reached out to help maneuver the large Hogwarts trunk and wicker basket through the window. The objects seemed to weigh nothing as he helped Hedwig drop them onto his bed. As soon as they hit the bed, though, they seemed to regain their weight, as his bed creaked softly.

Harry pulled the letter from Hedwig's leg and carried the exhausted bird to her cage, where she drank the available water greedily.

Harry opened the letter and saw the remnants of Hermione's neat handwriting. He read:

_Harry,_

_I received an owl from Dumbledore that said Voldemort is trying to get to you through Ron and me. Ron's safe with the Order, so don't worry about him. I'm afraid Voldemort try to hurt my parents if I stay with them, so I'm getting far away from them. _

_I'm sorry to burden you with my school things, but I couldn't leave them with my parents. Even Hedwig couldn't have gotten the load into the Order, so could you please take them with you to the train? The spell to make it lighter is Nadalarga. Just swish and flick and you should be able to carry the trunk with your finger._

_Please don't tell the Order. They have more important things to worry about right now. I'll try to make it to the train, but I won't make any promises. _

_Love from Hermione_

Harry stared at the letter in shock. He looked back at the basket next to the trunk, seeing fluffs of reddish fur sticking out. He opened the basket and Crookshanks jumped, looking around rapidly. He saw Harry, backed quickly away from him, nearly toppling between the bed and wall. Harry grabbed him quickly, scratching behind his ears the way Hermione always did when her cat was nervous.

Crookshanks calmed and seemed to remember Harry at last. The bushy cat curled up on Harry's flat pillow, resting after his journey.

Harry reread the letter, wondering why he had once again been left out of the mix. Why would Hermione just run away? Why not contact the Order and go the Headquarters with Ron? What did she know that no one else did?

Hedwig watched him from her cage, finally flying over and perching on Harry's shoulder. Harry let her nip at his fingers at he thought what to do next. The obvious answer would be to owl Dumbledore, but he had a feeling that Hermione had a very good reason for sending her things to him and not to the Headmaster. Did she possibly know something that even Dumbledore did not?

He stood quickly, Hedwig's claws sinking painfully into his shoulder. He pulled paper and pen to him and began to scribble a note to Ron. He had to know what the Order was up to and what it had to do with Ron and Hermione's safety.

Hermione could take care of herself until then.


	2. Chapter 2

The muggle underground was crowded. Hermione pushed her way to the ticket sales booth, trying to read fair prices as she went. Men in business suits pushed past her, none caring if she remained on her feet or not. She finally made it to the fair's chart, only to be flattened against it by a woman with a large mass of shopping bags in each hand.

She sighed. She'd been alone in London about two weeks, if she had her days straight. Her muggle money was running low, as she moved continuously to avoid being noticed. Using a spell she'd taught herself in early June, she'd changed her hair length and style. Instead of light, bushy brown curls, she now had straight strands of dark brown hair that reached her waist. She had tried for a shorter length, but one mis-step when casting it (due to a backfiring of a car across from the alley she had been hiding in) caused it's current length. She cursed herself for sending the book to Harry, as cutting her hair had no effect. The strands remained in a single braid down her back.

Her jeans were dirty and tearing at the bottom, her t-shirt also dirty and beginning to fade. She had chosen simple clothes so as not to draw attention to herself, with a grey sweatshirt tied around her waist.

She bought a ticket, noting she had less than ten euros left, and entered the underground. She entered the first train that appeared, and sat in the corner. She pulled her bag onto her lap, hugging it to her chest, and looked out the window. She suddenly noticed how much smaller her bag felt against her body. She knew her food was running low- she'd been living off a small box of crackers for the past few days.

She knew she had lost weight, as her jeans were beginning to slip down her hips when she walked. Her shirt had been tight around her stomach, but now flapped slightly.

Hermione forced back tears that constantly threatened her cheeks. She hated living like this- moving all the time in constant fear of being recognized or found. She kept her eyes down at the train left the station and moved to the next.

The hours passed and still she sat. She pulled a journal from her bag, scribbling notes of spells she needed to practice and items she wanted to look up once she had the chance. The book was quickly filling, and she hoped it would last her until she returned to Hogwarts.

As the train pulled into a somewhat deserted station, Hermione was munching on a cracker and scribbling a note, when a folded piece of paper fell from the pages. She grabbed at it quickly, not wanting to lose the letter from Harry. He'd written on plain notebook paper because he was slowly running out of parchment from all the essays they had to write for homework. Ron had been baffled by the paper, but Hermione had just laughed.

His letters looked different under a ball-point pen rather than a quill, but the curve of the a's and the way he signed his name were distinctly Harry.

_Hermione,_

_Hope your summer is going well. The Dursley's are staying as far away from me as possible, though Aunt Petunia has lightened up a bit. She gives me the leftover's from meals, but I think this is just so Dudley won't sneak downstairs and eat them in the middle of the night. _

_If I know you, and I do, you are busy studying and reading every book you can get your hands on. Remember, just because you're old enough to do magic outside of school doesn't mean you have to learn the entire spell book before term starts! I'll be able too in a few days and while I will practice, I plan on causing a few "accidents" around the house that will drive Dudley crazy. This is my last summer here, so I'm going to make it count. As for you, enjoy the holidays and practice your chess skills- Ron wants to play us as soon as we get to the Order._

_I'll see you at Diagon Alley in a week, then we'll spend the rest of the summer cleaning. You'll be proud to know that I have almost half my homework done, and the rest I need your help on. Ron's waiting until the last minute, of course, so you'll have your hands full with the two of us._

_Can't wait to see you,_

_Harry_

_P.S. I was just kidding about the "accidents." They'll be nothing accidental about them!_

Hermione smiled as she read this, a tear escaping and sliding down her cheek. The letter reminded her that she was only alone for a short time, and that when she did return someone would be waiting for her. She always laughed when she read about Ron's laziness, and felt proud that Harry had completed most of his homework. Guilt was the last thing to hit her when she realized she wouldn't be helping them finish their work.

"Excuse me."

Hermione's head shot up, startled by the voice. An elderly woman was standing in the aisle, a small shopping bag in hand and a large purse in the other. She was smiling down at Hermione.

"Honey, can I sit by you? My legs are aching."

Hermione smiled and grabbed her bag from the seat. The woman sat down with effort, closing her eyes a moment after she sat. Hermione quickly put the letter and her notebook away, shoving it all into her bag and hugging it to her chest.

The woman remained silently for several minutes, ever so often stealing looks at her neighbor. Hermione felt like a dog on display, keeping her eyes on the moving walls outside her window.

Finally, the woman spoke. "Hit some hard times, have you, dear?"

Hermione shrugged, not wanting to talk.

A pause. "It's not polite to ignore someone who's talking to you. I'm just making friendly conversation, as I'm going to be riding for a long time."

Hermione turned her head to look at the woman, fighting to keep a calm face. "I'm sorry. Yes, I'm having and tough time, but I try to keep to myself."

"Don't we all. That's what's wrong with today. Nobody cares about anyone but themselves."

Hermione sighed. "That's not fair. You don't even know me."

"I know all about you, Hermione Granger."

Fear gripped her as she stared at the woman, who didn't resemble anyone Hermione knew or had ever seen a picture of. How on Earth did she know who Hermione was.

Before Hermione could ask, the old woman smiled. "I saw you a few days ago. You can change your hair, but your face is still the same. And your walk is a give away- you still walk like you know everything about everything...

"Not that you don't," the woman added, seeing Hermione's hurt expression. "Now, it's time for you to come on back. You've been playing the hero long enough. The Order is waiting for you..."

"No."

The woman eyed her. "Dear, you have to come back with me. This charade of your is only worrying your family and friends. You'll be just as safe with the Order."

Hermione didn't like the situation. The women had yet to explain who she was or how she had found Hermione in the first place. Hermione suddenly became away of her entire surroundings: the train was beginning to slow, the next station fast approaching. The seat in front of her was empty.

She planned her escape.

The woman continued to speak as the train stopped and the doors opened. Without hesitation, Hermione stood and pulled herself over the seat in front of her, her bag slowing her as it caught on the seat. She tugged it free and hurried out the door before the woman could follow.

"Dedalus! She's getting...!" the woman managed to scream before the door shut and she was trapped on the train. Hermione sprinted to the stairs, fending off a man who tried to grab her arm. She recognized him from somewhere, but continued to run. Spells and curses ran through her mind, and she dug into her bag as she ran to get her wand. She had pulled it free when she stumbled on the last step, falling flat. Her wand fell from her fingers and rolled away, lost in a sea of feet.

Hermione pulled herself up and continued to run, finally reaching the streets of London. She had no idea where she was, but ran anyway.

"Stop! You, stop!"

Her mind raced as she thought back to every spell she'd ever learned to tried to learn, though little good it did her without a wand. She finally concentrated on the only thing that could get her out of this mess.

She'd only attempted it once, and failed miserably. She glanced over her shoulder, knowing she had to this time.

She ran across the street, barely getting past a car as it screeched to a halt to avoid hitting her pursuer. She sprinted to a small alley, crouching behind a trash can and trying to calm her breathing.

She concentrated very hard, trying to clear her mind of rush and fear. She pictured a calm place, where she wasn't in a hurry or hiding from anyone. She pictured Harry's face, smiling as he saw her. Once she was calm, she willed herself to leave...

A loud "pop" echoed in the alley. Dedalus had seen the girl's head only seconds before she disappeared away, and fought to catch his breath in his irritation.

A man in loose robes with silver hair and beard appeared next to him. "What happened."

"She apparated, sir."

Dumbledore looked surprised. "She doesn't know how to..."

"She learned." Dedalus Diddle eyed the old wizard. "She was very unstable, though. I don't think she's very skilled at it."

"Nor should she be. Must have taught herself." Dumbledore stroked his beard as the woman from the train hurried to the alley, her breathing pained.

"I don't think she had any control in where she's gonna end up."

"Dumbledore! Where it she? I..."

"Calm down, Arabella. She's gone, I'm afraid."

"Gone!" Arabella Figg held up a thin piece of wood. "But she's lost her wand, sir. She's..."

Dumbledore silenced her my taking the wand, running his fingers over it as he thought. This was becoming more difficult than he'd imagined.

"Come. Let's get back to the Order and speak with the others." He and Dedalus apparate while Mrs. Figg whistled for a cab.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione pulled her knees closer to her chest, hugging them as the rain fell and soaked into her hair. The strands seemed to be fighting the spell she'd placed on them, as small curls began to form around her face. She cried into her knees as the rain became a downpour, though she made no movements to find shelter.

She'd been sitting in this alley the entire day, unable to stand or move. She must have missed something when she read about apparating- she didn't think it was supposed to hurt so bad when you reappeared. She felt the bruise that was forming on her side and the large gash that covered her cheek. The blood had clotted, but the rain formed red streaks down her cheek.

Tears and raindrops soaked into her jeans, and soon she was shivering. Her sweatshirt was still tied about her waist, and her bag rest behind her against the wall. She tried once more to stand, but a sharp pain in her back prevented her from moving.

"I hate this," she whispered, pushing the curls behind her ears. "I hate this I hate this."

Hermione didn't notice as moments became minutes, and minutes became hours. Darkness was upon her when she finally tried to move again. The rain was still falling, but this time her back did not ache as badly when she straightened it and her head did not swim when she stood. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, releaved that the part she had been sitting on was dry and warm. She hung her bag over he shoulder and walked out into the street.

The street was familiar, and she realized that she'd only appareted an alley away. She searched the street for any sign of her pursuer, and, finding none, ventured out into the street.

She wandered the rest of the night, finally finding a small set old stairs she could sit beneath when the sun was beginning to rise about the worn buildings. She crawled under the stairs, pushing away the spider webs and leaning against the cement wall. She was asleep before she could think over the events of the day.

"So, what do we do?"

Harry watched his friend Ron stand as Dumbledore finished his story. The search parties out looking for Hermione were all gathered around the table at number 12 Grimmauld Place. Ron and Harry sat at opposite ends of the table, agreeing to watch each members expression as they reported in.

"Well, Mr. Weasly, we keep looking," said Dumbledore, seeming not to have noticed that he was interrupted mid-sentence. "We know she's been in the city for the past several weeks and..."

"She could be anywhere, Albus," said Mr. Weasly, sitting next to Ginny and absentmindedly playing with a strand of his daughter' hair. "She may know how to apparate, but I doubt she has much control over where she ends up."

"I have considered this, and Fawkes is doing a fly over of the parks and fields on the outskirts of London. Dedalus is keeping an eye on the Underground. The rest of us..."

"So we're just going to wait for her to show up again?" asked Harry, also standing with Ron. "You tracked her too long last time. You should have just grabbed her and brought her back."

"Harry, we wanted to find out the reason she was running..." Dumbledore stopped, rethinking his words. "She'll turn up again. We have wizards keeping watch for her all over the city."

"I'm sorry, but that's not good enough, Headmaster."

"What do you propose, Harry," asked Dumbledore, though there was no irritation in his voice, only curiosity.

Harry shook his head as his gaze fell to his hands, which were clutching each other in his impatience. He saw that his knuckles were growing white in the effort.

"I'll find her myself." With that, he walked out of the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4

A week had passed since she had lost her wand, though Hermione had no way of knowing this. She'd slept though the day and most of the night following her run in with the woman on the train, and she had lost her bearing on time in her slumber.

Hermione walked the streets of London, the last of her muggle money gone several days before. She hadn't eaten since the day before, when a child had handed her a doughnut in the park as she sat on a bench. His mother had been furious with him, but the look of gratitude on Hermione's face had silenced her ranting as the pulled her son away.

Her clothes hung more loosely than ever, and she had taken to holding one of the belt loops with her thumb as she walked, the rest of her hand holding the strap of her bag close to her side. Her hair no longer stayed in the long braid she had originally worn the first several weeks, and now the strands hung free and lifeless down her back.

Hyde Park, London's most famous park, had become her new home, as she could walk the bike or horse trails all day, hiding behind the large trees if anyone passed. She found nooks and spaces in children's equipment to sleep in. Sometimes she could go hours without seeing a soul, and these were the times where she felt the most safe. She wondered how much longer, though, she could go without money or food.

Her wand, she assumed, was in the hands of whomever had chased her, and she cringed to think what they might be doing with it. She reached for it now and again, so used to it resting just in her jeans pocket.

As she rested against one of the large oaks that lined trails, she reread some of her entries in the small notebook she had been keeping. The pages were full and she had gone to scribbling notes in the margins when an idea came to her. She couldn't wait to go to Diagon Alley and buy a larger book to copy her words into. The thought brought a tear to her eye, as she wondered when she could ever return to the Wizarding World.

"Hermione Granger."

Startled, Hermione stood and shoved the book into her bag, looking wildly for the source of the voice. A lone cloaked figure stood in the middle of the path, his face half covered by his hood. His mouth was visible to her, and he was smiling. Hermione stood, frozen to the spot, waiting for the visitor to speak.

"Many people are looking for you," he said, his voice cold and familiar to her. She suddenly noticed a black cane at his side, though he didn't seem to be leaning against it. She knew only one Wizard who carried a black cane such as that one, and she prayed the figure wasn't who she thought it was.

"Why?" she asked, finally finding her voice. "Who cares about a filthy mudblood, eh Mr. Malfoy?"

The figure chuckled, pulling back his cloak to reveal pale hair and a smirk. "You really are clever, Granger, as much as it pains me to admit. Draco speaks of you often, though never in a grand light, mind you. Now, come along. You have someone to meet."

"I don't think so."

Mr. Malfoy's face became irritated, and he took a step towards her. She responded by stepping back as well. "You are weak, Granger. I know you haven't eaten in days. If you run, you will only irritate me further."

"Then I'll leave you before I _really_ get on your nerves." Hermione forced a smile, buying time as she focused to apparate once again.

"What do you plan to do? You haven't a wand, neither can you..."

"You'll find I'm full of surprises," cried Hermione, as she crouched down and whispered her friends' names quickly to calm herself.

Before Malfoy could react, she was gone.

Hermione's eyes snapped open, only to be shut tightly against the bright light that surrounded her. She felt every muscle and bone aching, trying to lie still and retrieve her bearings. Slowly, she opened her eyes once more, this time able to keep them open and take in her surroundings.

She was lying in a grassy place, though large cement stones were placed in rows across the field. As she sat up, she realized she was in a very large and unkept cemetery. The sun was high in the sky, meaning she had been lying there all night and most of the morning.

She stood too quickly, grabbed onto one of the headstones as she scanned the field for any visitors. She needn't have worried, as the field was deserted. Wild flowers grew between the plots, and no trails had been worn where frequent mourners walked.

Hermione sank again to the ground, leaning against a crumbling headstone. Dizziness and exhaustion filled her as she rested, wanting nothing more than to lie down once more and escape into sleep. She didn't have a clue where she was, nor was she certain what day it was. Had she apparated from London early this day, or the day before?

She thought back to her escape, recalling ever cool word Malfoy had spoken. Again, though, she couldn't remember exactly _how _she had apparated, but she was glad she finally got something right.

A familiar pop echoed through the deserted field, and Hermione's head shot up in search of whoever had apperated. She saw only the back of him, but she stood tall with baggy jeans and a dirty sweatshirt. His hair was dark and sticking out at odd angles. She recognized him immediately.

Hermione scurried to the opposite side of the tombstone, pressing herself flat against it. She tried to slow her breathing, but the sudden movement had made her dizzy. She struggled to remained sitting upright as she heard footsteps coming towards her.

They stopped, and Hermione chanced a glance around the stone. Harry was kneeling next to a headstone not five yards from where she was hiding. She saw him place a small bouquet of flowers on the ground next to it, then drop him head for a moment. When he made to stand, Hermione forced herself against the stone again and waited for him to apparate away.

When he was gone, Hermione stood and walked slowly to the headstone he had visited. The bouquet was simple and colorful as she pushed it aside to read the names carved in the stone.

It was his parents' grave. Hermione felt a frog forming in her throat. The traced the names with her finger, wondering what Harry felt when he saw this. Was he sad? Angry? Lonely?

She ran her fingers over the fading words, tracing the name Potter with her index finger as she thought.

"This isn't a tourist attraction, you know," came an angry voice behind her.

Hermione turned suddenly, seeing Harry standing behind her. His expression changed instantly from anger to surprise, and finally a large smile formed. In an instant, he was kneeling beside her, holding her tightly in his arms. Hermione let him hold her, unsure what to do. The past weeks flooded back to her, all her work to stay away from those she loved was lost as her friend held her. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, and she wrapped her arms around his chest and cried.

"Where have you been?" asked Harry, though his voice was muffled by her hair.

"Everywhere," she said, pulling away from him. She smiled at his familiar features; his hair that fell into his eyes, the glasses that magnified his deep green eyes. She had missed him terribly this summer, and had only realized how much at this moment.

Harry looked at her, his expression revealing his joy. Playfully he took a long strand of hair that fell over her shoulder and ran it around his fingers. "I like it."

Fear suddenly gripped Hermione, and she pulled away from him and staggered to her feet. "I have to go."

"Hermione?" said Harry, still on his knees.

Hermione shook her head, grabbed her bag and put the strap over she shoulder. "I have to get away from you. If Voldemort finds..."

"Hey." Harry was on his feet, walking towards her. Hermione continued to back away, hitting headstones and she stepped. "Hermione, it's ok. You'll be safe with the Order and..."

"No, Harry, you don't understand," said interrupted, desperation in her voice. "He's watching me. He wants me to lead him to you. I have to stay away from you." She sidestepped a final headstone, unsure what to do. "Please, just go back to the Order. I'll see you in September and we'll go to Hogwarts and..."

"It's nearly September. You can come with me now," said Harry, becoming frustrated with her stubbornness. "The Order is prepared and can take care of us. Hermione," he stepped towards her and grabbed her hand, too quickly for her to step away. "I'll be safer with you than without you."

Hermione tried to get away, but he held her firmly. Before she could say anything, she saw him pull a small key from his pocket. He mumbled a spell, then pressed the key into her palm. She felt a strange pull behind her naval, and then she was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione felt the ground beneath her feet before she opened her eyes. Harry's portkey had send her to a small, dim room, with the only light squeezing through the pulled shades. She looked at the bed, her eyes falling on a ginger colored ball of fluff. Crookshanks lifted him head sleepily, saw her, and leapt from the bed into her arms.

Harry apperated next to her, instantly pulling her into his arms. Crookshanks purred between them as Hermione stood, nearly dumbfounded at her current situation.

"How did you..."

"You're not the only one who's come of age," said Harry, pulling away. He held her shoulders at arms length, adding, "This is Grimmauld Place. Look," he walked over to where two large Hogwart's trunks rested against the wall. He took a wand from atop one of them, held it out to her. "Dumbledore sent me your wand. Said you lost it on the muggle underground."

"I fell trying to get away from..." She stopped at she took the wand, feeling the familiar wood with her fingertips. "You know, I don't really know who I was running from."

"They were members of the Order who were trying to get you. They've been looking for you since you sent your things to me."

"I wish they had been watching you instead," said Hermione, hugging Crookshanks tightly.

Harry sighed. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"No, I don't know." Hermione sighed. "I don't mean to insult you or anything, but Voldemort is after you and..."

"He's been after me my whole life," Harry reminded her.

"But not like this..." Sobs overtook her and tears she hadn't noticed forming began to spill down her cheeks. "Harry, he's so much stronger now. I just don't..."

"Know if I can beat him?" Harry smiled at her shocked expression. "I think everyone's thought that a some time. Ron was telling me the other day..."

"This is serious, Harry!" said Hermione, nearly screaming at him. She calmed, taking a deep breath.

Harry stepped to her again, holding her forearms as he spoke. "I know. I'm sorry." He watched her cry, wanting more than anything to make the tears stop. "He's been getting stronger, but so have I." He knew she wanted to be left alone, but he was far to curious to just leave her to herself.

"Hermione, why did you run? Really?" He added the last when he saw her head shoot up and the expression on her face.

"I just...I wanted to get out of the way." She let Crookshanks down on the bed, though he did not settle was continue to stand and press her head into her hand. She petted him absently. "I wanted them to focus on watching out for you. If they didn't have to look after me, they could put that much more effort into you."

Harry tried to understand her reasoning, deciding that, for the first time in her life, Hermione hadn't known what to do. She had been torn between her own safety and that of her family and friends. Harry tried to imagine how she had survived in muggle London in the past weeks.

Exhaustion evident on her face, and Harry led her to the bed and helped her stretch out. Crookshanks sank next to her, curling up as close to her as he could. Harry sat in a chair next to her, waiting for her to relax before he spoke.

"Rest for a bit, Hermione. You can't apparate out of this room, so don't try it. Just stay put and sleep for awhile." He pushed a brown strand away from her cheek, seeing that her eyes were already closed and her chest rose and fell calmly. He ran his hand over Crookshanks absently, then walked silently out of the room.

The door shut behind him, and he tapped the doorknob twice with his wand. Now the door could not be opened from the inside, nor would the window's open. Pushing the wand back into his pocket, he walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Mrs. Weasly was clearing the table.

"Hello, Harry dear. I didn't realize you'd gotten back. There's some leftover on the counter if you'd like something to eat."

"No thanks," said Harry, taking a few plates and carrying them to the sink for her. "Where'd everybody go?"

"Oh, you know how it is. In one minute, gone the next. Ron and Ginny went to see Fred and George's shop. I told them to wait for you, but we didn't know when you'd be back." She stopped, looking Harry over. "Is something going on, Harry? You look...different."

Harry couldn't help the smile that began to cross his face. "I found Hermione."

The mug that Mrs. Weasly had been holding, began to fall to the floor. Harry held out his hand, mumbling a spell, stopping the cup in midair. It floated casually to the table.

Mrs. Weasly, far too used to Harry's new talent to dote on it, covered her mouth with both hands. "She's here? Now?"

Harry nodded. "She's totally worn out. I doubt she's slept in a few days, plus she taught herself to apparate and it didn't go so well for her." He walked to Mrs. Weasly and pulled her into an embrace as tears began to stream down the woman's face. "She's fine, Mrs. Weasly. She's fine."

Hermione's eyes sprang open, and she sat up too quickly. The room began to spin, and she fell back onto her pillow as she regained her balance. Crookshanks crooked face appeared before her, and she gasped first then smiled.

Taking him in her arms, she stood and walked to the door. The knob turned, as though to open the door, the the door did not move. Hermione tried to lean into the door, to force it open, but it was no use.

"Harry James Potter! You let me out of this room right this minute!" she shouted, letting Crookshanks onto the floor as she banged with both fists on the door.

"Back up a bit and I will!" came the reply. Hermione stepped back, finding a chair and sitting down in it. The door swung open slowly, revealing Harry with a tray of food balanced on one hand and his wand in the other.

"You didn't have to lock me in, you know." Hermione smiled softly as he presented the food to her. A bowl of soup and a plate of sweets sparked a hunger she hadn't realized she had, and she began to eat quickly.

Harry sat in the opposite chair, waiting for her to finish. He lifted the tray away with his wan, placing it outside the room and into the hallway. "I'll get it later." The door shut again.

Hermione sighed. "Harry, I've been running for the past month. I'm too tired to go any further."

"That's not to keep you in," said Harry, sighing. "I need to keep the others out. Mrs. Weasly won't be able to keep this quiet for long, so this way we can talk without hearing them."

When Hermione didn't say anything, Harry scooted his chair closer, taking her hands in his. He jumped slightly at how cold they were, and he rubbed them absently as he spoke. "Come on , Hermione. I know there's an actual reason you ran away. It doesn't make any sense that you would hide from the Order so they would spend more time on me. You knew they'd come looking for you." He tried to look at her face, too see if her expression changed at all, but she continued to stare at her lap.

"So, then I thought, 'what does Hermione know that even the Order doesn't?'" He paused, waiting. When she didn't move, he said, "I wrote to Dumbledore after I got your letter. He said he never sent you an owl, nor were there any tips that Voldemort was targeting you or Ron."

Hermione lifted her head, the tears she had fought back now trickled down her cheek, though no sobs threatened to choke her. "What does it matter?"

"It matters," said Harry, squeezing her hands, "because I want to know what made you run so I can fix it. I never want you to feel like you have to get away again. I want you here, with me."

Hermione shook her head. "I"m just a burden. I should be gone so the Order..."

"The Order cares as much for you as it does for me." The interruption startled Hermione, and Harry continued. "I just want to know..."

"I don't know, ok? I don't want you to die, so I ran!"

Before Harry could react, Hermione was in his arms and sobbing into his shoulder. The two slid to the floor, and Harry held her as she cried. Confusion kept him silent as she calmed herself and pulled away from him, sitting on her knees.

"I received a letter," she said, pushing hair away from her face. The stubborn strands had started to regain their curl again as she slept, and now much of her hair spilled over her shoulders to pile in her lap. "It didn't say who it was, just that I had to get away. That I had to get away from my parents, from the Order, and especially from you. If I didn't, the thing I dread most would happen before the next moon."

"Sounds like one of Twelawny's predictions," joked Harry, but her expression made him regret making the joke.

"I didn't know what to do. I thought it might be a hoax, but the letters were a deep read and as soon as I read it, it burst into flames and nearly caught my bed sheets on fire. I was afraid of who it might have been from, so I did exactly what it said. I ran."

"It could have been from Voldemort, Hermione," said Harry, urgently. "He could have been trying to lure you away and..."

"I know. Don't you think I thought through every possibility? Don't you think I thought of everything before I just ran? It wasn't logical, but it just...I don't know..._felt _right to go. Like someone was looking out for me or something." She sighed. She recounted her encounter with Mr. Malfoy. "I know now it was to get me on my own, but I guess even Voldemort couldn't find me at first."

"I'll kill Malfoy myself," mumbled Harry, but Hermion shook her head at this.

"Leave that to me." She smiled briefly.

Harry looked at her, asking, "So what does this have to do with you not wanting me to die?"

"Sometimes, Harry, you're so thick." A chuckle escaped her lips, a smile forming beneath her tears. "You dying is the thing I dread most."

Taken aback, Harry's mind replayed to a moment over a year before, when Mrs. Weasly had struggled to fight off a boggart that took the form of Harry's dead body. He struggled to smile, but couldn't as tears began to form in his own eyes.

"Hermione," he started, pushing a rebel strand of hair from her face. "If I'm going to die anytime soon, then I want to spend as much time with the people I love as possible. So, don't run away from me. With Voldemort's power growing as fast as it is, we might not have that much time to waste."

"How can you be so calm about it?"

Harry shrugged. "It won't do anyone any good to mope about it. All I can hope is that I take Voldemort with me."

Hermione still seemed skeptical. "You're really not scared of dying?"

"Oh, I'm scared of dying," admitted Harry, running his hand over his hair and ruffling the short locks. "But, I've known the risks since I was eleven. And so have you, you know."

Hermione nodded, feeling new tears beginning to form. Harry pulled her to him, letting her cry into his shoulder.

"But I don't want you to go," she mumbled, wrapping her arms around his waist, as if trying to keep him next to her forever.

"I'm not gone yet," replied Harry, kissing the top of her head.


End file.
